


Origin of Love

by becomingshades



Category: One Direction
Genre: Angst, Broadway, Carnegie Hall, Future Fic, HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH Y'ALL, Harry!Hedwig, Just tons of angst, M/M, Theater - Freeform, Theatre, angsty angst, however you like you spell it, sort of canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becomingshades/pseuds/becomingshades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Hedwig? HEDWIG?! You know what? Fuck him. Harry wouldn't even know who Hedwig was without Louis. So just... fuck him. </em>
</p><p>*</p><p>(Future fic set in the New York theater scene, full of love and angst and allusions to mythology-- ancient mythology, and Hedwig's mythology, and the kind you find and build in your own life.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Origin of Love

* * *

_But I could swear by your expression_  
 _That the pain down in your soul_  
 _Was the same as the one down in mine_  
 _That's the pain_  
 _Cuts a straight line_  
 _Down through the heart_  
 _We called it love_

Origin of Love, Stephen Trask

* * *

 

 

Hedwig? HEDWIG?! You know what? Fuck him. Harry wouldn't even know who Hedwig _was_ without Louis. So just... fuck him.

  
Louis threw the paper across the room. The cleaning lady could pick it up whenever she came next. There was no way he would touch that again. Not with the way it made things crawl under his skin, feelings he'd always hoped were long gone. Always sort of dimly known he'd never managed to release.

  
*

  
 _**British heart-throb Harry Styles headed for The Great White Way** _

_**By, BAZ BAMIGBOYE FOR THE DAILY MAIL** _  
_**03 January 2018** _

_**Well here's one you probably never expected: Harry Styles, best known as 1/5 of the decade's biggest (now-defunct) boyband, One Direction, is set to cover his glorious locks with some pretty famous wigs as he steps into Hedwig's towering heels for a 20th Anniversary concert production this winter.** _

_**I can exclusively reveal that the production, scheduled for two days this February -- the 20th anniversary of the show's off-Broadway opening in 1998 -- will be directed by John Cameron Mitchell, and staged at Carnegie Hall. If you listen closely, you can already hear Hedwig's jokes about how hard she practiced to get there...** _

  
*

  
It had been the most violent breakup of Harry's life. Not that he'd had very many before. But there had been a few since, most of them the other party, most of them ultimately some semblance of fine.

But not with Louis. No. That had been like being torn apart. Like wrenching pieces of himself off and giving them away forever. To the ether. To someone who didn't want them any longer. And the pain lingered, phantom now, in places that were no longer his.

But it had been two years now. _Two years_. He just... he needed to move on, once and for all. Needed to close the door between them. Slam it, even. He had to find a way.

So when his manager had made some sort of joking, off-hand mention of the meeting request he'd received, tied to some 20th Anniversary concert production of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, well, Harry thought it was serendipity. The perfect sign from the universe. This was how he'd do it, this would be his catharsis-- a symbolic farewell to all HarryandLouis had once been.

He just needed to get the part.

  
*

  
 _**Has Harry Styles FINALLY Set the Larry Rumors to Rest with this Gay Date?** _

_**By Stephanie Soteriou | Yahoo Celebrity -- Mon., Dec 22, 2014** _

_**We. Are. Swooning.** _

_**After months of carefully planting the idea that he might be gay, our lovely Harry Styles may have stepped out on a date with a man for the very first time. The best part about all this? Prepare yourself, dear readers-- That date appears to have been with none other than bandmate (and secret starcrossed lover) Louis Tomlinson.** _

_**The band's representation has flat denied that there was anything romantic going on, but that's pretty hard to believe. How many 'friends' do you know that step out ALONE, days before a major holiday, for dinner and a Broadway show? There was no PDA captured on film, but Styles and Tomlinson were photographed out on Sunday night -- just a day after their Saturday Night Live performance promoting new album FOUR -- grabbing dinner at Theater District favorite 5 Napkin Burger before catching a performance of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. After the show the pair joined stars Michael C Hall and Tony Winner Lena Hall (no relation, but hilarious coincidence, right?) for drinks at The Lamb's Club...** _

  
*

  
It wasn't that he didn't remember the story. He did. He'd spent hours talking it over with Lou in the weeks after they'd seen it together in 2014. Teasing apart what it said about love and the history of punk, of rock and roll. What it said about gender and identity and human need for belonging. Longing.

They'd been so early in their relationship, then. In HarryandLouis being a real thing -- albeit a hidden thing -- and not some figment of their fans' imaginations.

But truth be told, Harry remembered their relationship more than he remembered Hedwig. All the things he'd been feeling in those beginning moments. The soaring. The belonging. The horrible way it had ended, with the sadness and the anger and the gaping loss, even before Lou was really gone.

So maybe that's what caught him off-guard about it all -- all the pain it dug back up -- the sense that his story and Hedwig's had become one-in-the-same, to some extent. He'd never seen that before. Never needed to.

But when he read the script before auditions. When he memorized his lines. When he fought his way through every single rehearsal, wobbling on heels, slicing open his torso to let his entire insides out onto the stage over and over all day every day... That was what it felt like. Less like acting. More like reliving something of his own.

And whatever the case. Wherever the lines really were between his story and Hedwig's. Those first weeks of rehearsal, especially, had felt like self-flagellation. Like a very slow suicide.

Like he was giving away the very last parts of himself.

Harry cried himself to sleep every night.

  
*

  
 _**Oprah Winfrey set to Make Her Broadway Comeback** _

_**By Michael Riedel** _  
_**January 30, 2018 | 10:41pm** _  
  
_**...I'm hearing rumors that Harry Styles, set to star in this February's 20th Anniversary concert production of Hedwig and the Angry Inch is a bit of a cry-baby. As in he's left rehearsal crying every day this week. Can't imagine this bodes well for the heart-throb's chances on stage at Carnegie Hall. But hey. John Cameron Mitchell knew what he was doing when he cast the boybander. Right? RIGHT?!** _

  
*

  
"Mate, we have to go."

"No, actually, WE do not, Zayn. You may have to go. Niall may have to go. Liam may _have_ to go. But I do not. There is no we here. Not when it comes to Harry."

Zayn sighed. "Are you really still being this way, Lou? It's been two years now. The lads and I thought maybe it was time to--"

Louis did not throw his phone across the room. He did not. And he considered that a very impressive feat of self-control.

"Fuck off, Zayn. You have no idea. And you... you... _Bollocks_!" He ripped a hand through his fringe. "You wouldn't understand. It's not even just Harry. It's _Hedwig_. It's Broadway. It's what those things mean to me. It's Harry just taking them as his own. Like he always did. Does. Whatever. And I'm still just here."

"Lou," Zayn softened immediately.

And fuck. Louis did not want to talk about it. Wanted to keep pretending it wasn't happening. Wasn't showing up all over the news. All over the internet. All over his life. Just reminding him, minute by minute, again and again, of all he'd lost or never had or fucked up or missed out on or not tried hard enough to have and to hold. Reminding him of the several million things he was not.

Louis just wanted to go back to bed.

  
*

_**BAZ BAMIGBOYE: Hugh Jackman Attempting to Revive Boy From Oz** _

_**By, BAZ BAMIGBOYE FOR THE DAILY MAIL** _  
_**08 February 2018** _

_**WILL THE ONE DIRECTION BOYS BE THERE TO SUPPORT STYLES?** _  
_**There's a lot of chatter about who will and won't be attending Harry Styles' first performance on the Broadway stage. Next week, he's starring beside Sleater-Kinney's Carrie Brownstein in a concert production of Hedwig and the Angry Inch in New York City's famed Carnegie Hall, to be directed by the show's original star (and book-writer) John Cameron Mitchell.** _

_**I hear mates like Ed Sheeran, Alexa Chung and even The Breakfast Show's Nick Grimshaw will be there to support the star, but what of his famous bandmates? From what I can tell so far, at least three of them will be there: Liam Payne, Niall Horan and Zayn Malik already have their flights booked. It's Louis Tomlinson who seems to be the sticking point here. For years Styles and Tomlinson were dogged by rumors that they were secretly romantically involved, and in the wake of the band's 2016 break-up -- excuse me, hiatus -- gossip rags the land over claimed the band's troubles were related to the demise of Styles and Tomlinson's relationship.** _

_**I'll keep an eye out for more news, because I hear the lads are talking about using this trip to gauge potential interest in a comeback album, which means having Tomlinson on board is essential. But so far it seems like the band won't be getting back together to celebrate Harry just yet.** _

  
*

  
The thing is, he couldn't even remember how they actually started. How they went from one thing to another entirely.

There was a kiss, certainly. Louis remembered the kiss like it was just yesterday, which was sort of the problem, really. He could still see Harry swinging forward in that slow motion way he had, where it wasn't hesitant or questioning, where it was certain, but it still happened at half-speed. Harry had always been able to slow Louis down. To quiet him. That didn't go away when they got together, it only just... heightened. He actually felt like a better version of himself when Harry's lips were on his skin, more real, somehow.

After that first kiss -- warm and wet and shockingly long but still just too short, like always with Harry, because everything with Harry was never quite enough -- Harry had reeled back and laughed. And it should have hurt. Harry laughing in his face like that, right after their first kiss. It would have, with anyone else. But nothing with Harry ever felt the way it was supposed to. Least of all that kiss. Least of all the moments after, where they giggled into each other's necks, scared and happy and relieved it had finally happened. Not sure what was next, but knowing that everything had changed. And now, today, that's... that's what he remembered. He didn't even remember what came next, all those things that had scared him for so long. He thought maybe the rest, the next, had come slowly and steadily. Had grown in its own quiet way. So warm and safe and good and natural that it was almost unremarkable, even when it was the most remarkable thing in his life. In the world.

So no. Louis didn't exactly remember how it began. But he remembered the end. Maybe because endings were just... final. Maybe because, in typical HarryandLouis fashion, it had dragged on forever. It had dragged on forever, slow and gradual and ugly this time, and still, he hadn't been ready.

But mostly, it was probably because those final moments-- they had landed with a bang. Like a sucker-punch, heaved at his restlessly sleeping body, taking all the air from his lungs. From is life. From the world. _Louis, this isn't working. You're not happy. Neither am I._ Simple words, spoken plainly. And there was nothing he could say in return. _Louis tell me I'm wrong, please, tell me I'm wrong_ , Harry had pleaded with him. As if Louis could refute the facts, the months and months of argumentative unhappiness. _Don't put this on me, Haz, don't you dare put this on me_ , he'd replied. Defending himself to the last. And then, well. That was it. That was the moment they never came back from. Never could have. They were severed in two.

*

_**Harry Styles on His Boyband Past, Hedwig's Woes and His Potential Broadway Future** _

_**By Irene Gordon - Feb 15, 2018 - New York City** _

_**Harry: I mean, I know everyone knows this already, the pictures have been everywhere, but, I saw the revival back in 2014.** _

_**TheaterMania: With Louis Tomlinson, right?** _

_**Harry: Yeah, yes. Yeah. With Louis. We were promoting our album FOUR at the time, and had come to New York to tape Saturday Night Live, and Louis, who loved both theater and Dexter -- honestly, when we were kids, scared out of our minds all the time on our first tour, Louis would stay up at night binge-watching Dexter with me when I couldn't sleep, and anyway, I digress. It's just. Louis introduced me to Hedwig, wouldn't let me leave New York for Christmas until I'd gone to see Michael C. Hall at the... the Belasco, maybe? So I have such amazing memories of Hedwig. Of Michael's performance, of being there with Louis, of talking and talking and talking about it for days afterward. I'd never given much thought to theater before that night, and it... Louis really changed my life. In a lot of ways, I guess. This is just one of them. But. I can't believe, all these years later, I have the chance to play this role. It's kind of Louis' fault.** _

_**TheaterMania: We'll blame him if anything goes wrong then, will we?** _

_**Harry: Oh, absolutely! If I'm horrid, you can send your angry letters to his post-box. [He laughs, loud and bright, doubling over a bit in his chair.] Though really, that's not fair. No, please don't. It will all be my fault if this is horrible. I'll... I'll have let him down again, really.** _

  
*

"And Harry?" Liam asked, gently.

Harry really just wanted to go sink down into a bath full of epsom salts with an entire bottle of red wine. He had four new bruises today, the one on his left hip so bad it would potentially calcify -- thank god it would be covered even in the little shorty swim trunk things he wears for "Wicked Little Town (Reprise)" and "Midnight Radio" -- and he felt like... He felt like his insides were still all fucked up over Hedwig. Like his ribs were tired of holding him all together after an entire day of pretending that this show wasn't making all of his pieces want to fly apart. All the pieces he had left, at least.

"Yeah, Li?" he asked, wearily.

"Before you go, um. He's... He's coming, Haz."

Harry didn't need to ask who 'he' was. There was only ever one 'he' when it came to his life. Only one who people spoke about in that tone of voice. Like they were trying not to spook a baby deer. Harry hadn't felt like a baby deer in so long. Since before he and Lou and gotten together. Lou had... When their relationship started to change, Lou had made him feel like a stag. Like the most beautiful beast in the forest. He hated that it was talk of Lou that could take that away from him, now. Or that other people thought it could. Or both. Maybe both. He didn't even know anymore. He was so tired.

"Really?" he asked, scrambling to swallow away the fist of anxiety that was closing around his windpipe.

"Yeah. He... He wasn't planning to at first, but I think... I dunno what to think really. But Zayn said he's come round. That he'll fly to New York with us for all the events."

"That's, that's great, Li, yeah? It'll be so good for the show. We'll drum up so much press. Maybe even be able to open up that last night they were holding."

"Yeah, s'great, but Haz--"

"And it'll be great for the band, too!" he began, cutting Liam off as the words tumbled out of his mouth, "You know, if we're still planning to talk about a new album, like. All of us being together will give us a chance to talk, and all the media can help us gauge whether or not-- I mean, it's seemed like there's been interest in us again, with some of the Hedwig press, but like, getting us all together will be--"

"Haz?" Liam asked urgently, cutting him off in return.

"What?"

"Are you sure you're okay with this? We're doing this for you. But if-- If it's just going to add to your stress, we'll just... We don't have to all be there, yeah?"

"No, please. No. Li," he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, "I want you all to be there. It's fine. It's better'n fine. It's brilliant. It'll be brill. Please, don't worry about me. I'm just tired from rehearsals and getting a little ramble-y, that's all."

"Okay, Haz. Okay. Well. We'll all be there. But just... Let me know if it seems like it's too much, yeah? You can always tell me the truth. I'll sort it."

Harry loved them all, he did. They were his family. The brothers he'd chosen. No one on this planet knew him better than they did. Not even his actual family. No one could. No one else had been on the inside. And sometimes, their closeness... it was so much. Or too much, even. Bullshitting any one of them was damn near impossible, and not just because he was a pretty terrible liar. They just... knew all his tells. Every hitch of his breath, every modulation of his tone, every move of his body. Sometimes he just wished they were better at letting him lie. At leaving well enough alone.

"'Preciate that, Li. But I promise. It's grand."

"Okay, well, just--"

"Li!" he laughed.

"Right. Yeah. I'll shut it. And I'll let you go."

"Thanks, mate. I'm about to get down and dirty with some epsom salt and biofreeze. See you in a few days, yeah?"

"You will. G'night, Harry."

"G'night, Li."

Harry had the bottle of red open before Liam even finished hanging up. Feeling guilty, he took a bottle of Gatorade with him to the bath, too.

  
*

Louis stared at this open case and clenched his jaw. Clothes were... mostly outside the case, if he was honest with himself. They'd been in there, once. Last night, actually. He'd been so ahead of the game. But this morning, waiting for Zayn, Liam and Niall to come pick him up for the trip to the airport -- all of them together for maximum media bait -- he suddenly he decided he hated everything he'd packed. Which was ridiculous, really, given that Caroline had gone ahead arranged clothes for both the rehearsal visit and the show's opening, which were already waiting for him somewhere in NYC. All he really needed was a few days' worth of casual wear. Jeans and t-shirts, shit, trackies would do for half the time, probably. He wasn't planning much while he was there, anyway. Wasn't sure he'd end up being capable of much.

"Lou?" he heard Niall call from somewhere near the front door.

"'M up here!" he replied, hearing the door close behind Niall as footsteps shuffled through the front hall.

"Louis, what are you doing, mate?" Niall asked, just behind his shoulder.

"I just..." he felt his shoulders rise defensively, and forced them back down. No need to be defensive. No need to lie. "Just decided I hated everything I packed?"

"Oh, Lou," Niall sighed.

"What?" he asked, hating the tone of Niall's voice.

"Your hands are..."

Niall didn't have to finish his sentence. Louis looked down and realized immediately what Niall was seeing. His hands were shaking.

"'S'nothing, Ni. I'm fine. I just hate everything I packed, and I've made a mess and I don't want us to be late, and..."

"Okay, mate. Okay. Let's just... Do you want me to help? Zayn maybe?"

"No, no, I'm just being silly. Let me just... I'm going to grab that leather jacket I nicked off of Zayn a hundred years ago and throw it in here and maybe that scale-y shouldered sweater thing and shove them in here and then it's fine. It'll be fine."

Clothing like armor. Just a few more pieces and he could protect himself from everything that was about to fly at him. Weapons or words or. Or feelings. All of it. He could arm himself. And he could do this.

  
*

  
Harry was going to bounce out of his own skin. He was.

They were about to run a scene or two for the press, but things were running behind and the chairs that had been lined up in this studio at New 42 were still only half full and if he didn't find his chill in about five seconds he was probably just going to burst through the curtains and start singing "Tear Me Down" unaccompanied. That seemed like a perfectly reasonable way to bleed out the energy coiling up in his muscles as he peeked through a makeshift curtain and watched the boys fawn over his director.

He could only see Louis in profile -- was that the leather jacket Harry'd nicked off Liam (who'd nicked it off Zayn) like five years ago? -- same for Niall and Zayn, and it was a strain to hear what they were saying, but Harry was pretty certain Louis was gushing about John's performance in the Hedwig movie, and how he'd 'educated' the boys by forcing them to watch the film on their flight over. And then Liam, bless him, was stumbling through finding the proper pronoun for Hedwig ( _her, Li, it's_ her) in the most endearingly earnest way and Harry realized how very much he'd missed his boys, these past few weeks especially, and something settled inside him. They were here. And he could do anything when they were around. He just needed to calm the fuck down and go steam his voice and meditate or something. He'd be on 'stage' in only a minute. He'd be fine.

"Tear Me Down" (properly accompanied) had gone off with as few hitches as possible and between scenes, as the producers chatted to the crowd, Harry fought to stay in character and not feel too self-satisfied with the gobsmacked expressions on the faces he could see in the audience. (All of them, he could see all of them because they were performing in complete daylight and it was totally fucked up.) The next scene was a big one. An important one, and he had to... he had to get it right. This was where he proved to everyone he didn't just look good in the skirt, that he could do more than belt out the tunes.

It wasn't until the words left his mouth -- _Then love the front of me_ \-- that he realized it. He wasn't Hedwig. Not at all. He was Tommy. Louis. Louis was Hedwig. Louis has always been Hedwig.

It was a good thing Harry didn't sing "The Long Grift" because he needed a moment. Or several million. He was so, so happy to let Yitzak step up, then. To let Carrie (holy shit, he still couldn't believe he was working with her) take over while he disappeared behind the curtain to shove his head between his knees and breathe.

It had... He had loved Louis so, so much. So much longer than he had even realized at first, really. Maybe always. Maybe he'd loved Louis from the moment they met, even though it took them something like four years to get together. But he had. He'd loved Louis. Even when they were fighting. Even when he could feel the last threads of their relationship slipping through his fingers, it had never been a question of love.

And in the end, that was why he'd let him go. Because Louis was... Louis deserved every happiness in the world. And no matter what Harry did, he couldn't give that to Louis. Louis had to want that for himself. Had to find that for himself. Harry wasn't the answer. Coming out together wasn't the answer. Those things... they were just band-aids. Temporary solutions that delayed and delayed and delayed the day that Louis figured it out. Figured _himself_ out.

Harry had done it for Louis, the leaving. And it had nearly ruined him. But maybe he'd never really appreciated the ways in which it had ruined Louis, too.

  
*

  
By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Louis still felt a bit... shell-shocked, perhaps. A bit blown back.

It wasn't that he hadn't thought Harry could do it. He'd known Harry could. Harry was... Harry was everything. Harry could do anything. But _knowing_ it and _seeing_ it, they were two entirely different things. And Louis hadn't been prepared to see it. He hadn't. He felt silly now, not having been ready for it. And lost. He felt lost in something. A memory, perhaps. Or a nightmare, more like, because Harry still wasn't there to pull him out of it. Harry had walked out the door of his flat in London and never looked back. He'd thought Harry was the one, and Harry had left.

There was champagne waiting at the table in Joe Allen when they were seated, and he forced himself not to gulp down his entire glass in one go, letting Liam talk his ear off to distract him as they waited for the waitress to arrive. Harry swore the place was Broadway legend, and pointed out about ten 'Broadway Famous' people to them as they were escorted to a quiet table at the far back. They'd join his castmates and director at an even more legendary bar upstairs for a drink after dinner -- even though Harry wasn't drinking again til opening -- but for moment, it was just them. And Louis was not going to drown in it. He was not.

Niall was locked in conversation with Harry, making him laugh uproariously and smile like it hurt, telling some silly story or another, quite possibly about nothing. Louis half-smiled, one corner of his mouth pulling up as he snuffed out a silent chuckle. Niall'd never had to do much to make Harry laugh. Time was he hadn't had to do much either. Time was Harry had looked at Louis like the sun shone out of his ass. Now Harry mostly wasn't looking at him at all. Louis' eyes burned at the realization, and he swiped at them for a moment to clear the sensation.

It had been a long time since he'd properly seen Harry. Sat at a table with him. In fact, the last time he'd proper seen Harry they'd just split. It'd been a few days, maybe, and the band was coming together for one last meeting after tour, but before their hiatus. He and Harry hadn't told anyone yet. Had hoped to keep it under wraps 'til after they were all back home, starting their breaks, and that night they both got too drunk, trying to hide their broken parts, their gaping wounds. Louis had kept a hand pressed flat over his bellybutton the entire night. Like he could keep things together that way. Or at least keep his hands to himself. His words, too.

All that drinking had been a stunning miscalculation on both their parts, it turned out. Because when everyone had gone, when they were left with nothing but their lies and their mangled hearts, they were both pissed. In just about every sense of the word. And that had been a recipe for disaster. AKA a fumbling snog in the alley beside the bar that ended with Harry's hand down Louis' pants before they even knew what was happening. And before they could think, they were in a taxi together, kissing like they could suck out the poison of their pain that way.

The sex that night had been so... angry? No. Angry wasn't quite the right word. Because they'd been hurting, too. But that just manifested itself in this competitive sort of aggression. In a fight. Every touch, every kiss, every thrust had been a battle for something. Dominance. Control. Proof that they were the most hurt, or the least hurt, or... God. He couldn't even remember anymore. What was real then, and what was only in his memories.

Because he knows now that he was hurt. Gutted. Destroyed. But back then he was so _angry_ , too. Was holding onto that rage because it was easier to grasp, to wield, than his pain had been. All those years together, all that he'd given over to Harry, all that he'd lost. And it was really gone. In that moment he'd seen how gone it was. Because it was the worst sex of his life. The worst way to bookend their relationship. The most awful final memory to take away. And afterward he still hadn't understood why. What it was about him that had driven Harry away. Had kept Harry in the closet, when freedom had been so close. Happiness, too. It had been right there. And Harry had taken it away.

And here, two years later, it was still gone. Of that much Louis was aware. Whatever they once had been. Harry and Louis. HarryandLouis. Whatever. That was still gone.

  
*

  
Louis figured he'd be a bit less winded the second time 'round. Not that he expected having seen, like, two scenes would have totally inured him to the power of Harry's Hedwig. But he was pretty sure nothing would ever punch him in the chest as hard as Harry's first " _Then love the front of me_." had at rehearsal a few days ago. He'd been turning that line delivery over and over and over in his head, and he just thought... nothing could hurt like that had hurt. Not again.

But it was... He was wrong. He'd been wrong.

Because it took Zayn and Liam each hooking a hand under his arms to haul him out of his seat for a standing ovation at the close of the show. He was too broken -- too overpowered by chest heaving sobs -- to stand on his own.

It had been the reprise of "Wicked Little Town" this time that had knocked him sideways. It was just. They were seated so close, and the expression in Harry's -- err, Tommy's -- eyes was just too much. Was too real. Like he knew. Like in that moment he was Tommy. And Tommy was singing right to Louis. _Forgive me for I did not know, cause I was just a boy, and you were so much more_. And in that moment, in that song, he realized that Harry had been right all along. _There's no mystical design, no cosmic lover preassigned_. Louis hadn't been whole, then. Had been relying on Harry for something fundamental, something Harry could never provide. _It seems the stranger's always you_.

And he'd never have found it if Harry had stayed.

And Harry had hurt him. Irrevocably.

But the thing was. Louis was okay now. And his life was okay. Occasionally great, even. And he'd got there on his own. And Harry-- Even then, he'd known.

  
*

  
Seeing Louis at rehearsal, and the subsequent dinner and drinks things, had been awkward in it's own right. He'd dealt with it then by mostly avoiding Louis, and it had seemed like Louis was on board. It was immature. Of course. Certainly. They couldn't make more albums this way. Or go on tours. But Harry'd had other things on his mind. Like getting through Hedwig. He felt so much responsibility -- to his cast, to John, to the fans and the material itself -- that there was no time to figure out how the fuck to deal with Louis two years on. To even think about how he felt.

But seeing Louis at the after-party was... Was something else. He'd hung back while the other boys congratulated him properly, just on the other side of the step and repeat, and waited to speak to Harry alone. Or as alone as anyone could be at a after-party like that. His eyes were tear bright, the shade of blue that was more cobalt than storm, that lingered in his eyes hours after he'd been crying. And Harry knew that color. Knew what it meant.

"Thank you, Harry," he'd said.

And Harry. He hadn't even the slightest clue what to do with that. What it even meant. So he'd looked down, watching as he scuffed at the carpet with the toe of his sparkliest boots, hands clasped behind his back.

"I mean it, H," Louis said, resurrecting a nickname he hadn't used in years as he reached up to clutch at Harry's bicep. "That was... You--" he cut off, huffing a small, nervous laugh. "Sorry. I'm just a little overwhelmed right now. But. That was beautiful. And it made me... Thank you. It helped me see some things. And I think. We're okay now, yeah? We can be okay now, can't we?"

Harry looked up at that, tears tingling at the backs of his eyes, because he somehow hadn't dehydrated himself these past few weeks of crying and working too hard and crying some more.

"Yeah," he choked. "Yeah, I'd like that, Lou."

They were interrupted then. Harry was needed for more pictures and Louis really wanted to talk to the producers, anyway, and the night had become a blur after that. Handshake to handshake to handshake. Tumbler of whisky, neat, to tumbler of whiskey, rocks, to tumbler of whiskey twenty-seven million and Harry was only just a bit unsteady on his feet, drunkenly thanking John for casting him, for the opportunity, for all it had meant to him, totally sure if he just kept saying it, rewording it, that somehow he could make John understand.

"Hey, I think someone wants to talk to you," John said, leaning over to whisper in his ear and giving his wrist an affectionate squeeze before departing. "I'll see you tomorrow night at call. You were... remarkable tonight, Harry."

Harry didn't have time to respond before he felt another hand on his shoulder and he turned to find Louis there.

"I should... I'm going to leave with the lads, H. But I just wanted to say goodbye, like. And thank you, again. I think. I'm a better person now. Happier, like. And that's down to me. But you... you let me find that. And I didn't even, before tonight I couldn't really see it. That I was better. That you had a hand in that when I thought you'd only ever hurt me. And so. Yeah. Thanks, H. And good night. Break legs tomorrow. I hope you sell out a whole 'nother night."

Louis retreated, then, and the other boys flooded in. Hugs and congratulations and hugs some more. Harry just felt stunned. He smiled and he laughed, hopefully in the right places, but some part of him felt frozen, like a record skipping over the same word, again and again and again. _Thanks, H_.

Louis was out of the ballroom, down the hall, and halfway through the lobby before Harry could catch up.

"Louis, wait!" he called, shocked by the thickness of his own voice. "Wait, I..."

Louis looked rooted to the spot. The other lads, they hung just at the fringes of his view, tentative, wondering what they'd need to do. What they could do. Eyes darting between he and Louis. But Louis only looked at him as he closed the last of the space between them.

"I love you, I think. No, I know," he said, reaching for both of Louis's upper arms, gripping them like a vice. "I love you."

"I know you do, H," Louis replied, smiling soft and fond but a million miles away. "That's why you..." He shook his head. "Thank you, anyway. For saying so."

"No, I love you right now, you donut. I love you right now," he insisted. And he didn't... He didn't even know if it was possible, really. Or how he knew it. Only that something in the way he'd remembered Louis' eyes -- their myriad shades, the infinite little stories they told -- made him feel complete again. Like he'd found something he'd been looking for... forever. From birth. From the beginning of time.

Harry held his breath. Louis stepped in.

  
*

  
 _**One Direction Stars Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson Caught Kissing on Camera in New York City** _

_**CELEBRITY NEWS FEB 15, 2018 AT 12:03PM BY SIERRA WEBBER** _

_**Color us shocked. After 8 years of stone-cold denials, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson appear to be very much a thing. And by a thing, we mean a couple. Or at least a couple of bandmates who say "I love you" and kiss passionately at after-parties in New York City.** _

_**Sources tell US Weekly that hot on the heels of his rave-reviewed New York stage debut as Hedwig Schmidt Robinson in Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Styles was seen chasing Tomlinson through the Pierre Hotel at the show's after-party. Acompanied by bandmates Liam Payne, Niall Horan and Zayn Malik, Tomlinson was apparently attempting to leave the party, and Styles would have none of it. When Tomlinson finally stopped, Styles was heard confessing his love before Tomlinson pulled him into a passionate kiss. Payne, Horan and Malik looked on with fond exasperation.** _

_**Also looking on? A handful of photographers who'd been covering the red-carpet event, and managed to snap a few pics of the heated smooch.** _

_**Almost immediately after they broke apart the couple high-tailed it out of the event hand-in-hand without offering any comment. The band's representation has yet to respond to our inquiries, but we'd say these pictures are worth about a thousand words, at least...** _

  
*

Louis had woken to the sight of ceiling he didn't recognize, feeling more content than he had in ages. Or not more content, really. He'd been content. Just... differently so. Or in more places, more spaces and ways in his life.

Harry was curled up on his side, back pressed against the line of Louis' torso, head resting on Louis' bicep, breath warm and wet against the inside of his elbow. For a second, his heart lurched at the memory of the night previous. Hedwig and Tommy and Harry in one, the way he'd felt seeing them all come together. The relief, and the freedom, and the thought that he could finally move on with his life, chased immediately by the knowledge that he couldn't. That walking away from Harry was impossible once Harry had said the word 'love' again.

And this was. Insane. It was, he knew it. God. They had hours of awkward, awful conversations ahead of them, to be sure. But something had come back into place last night. Or no. No that wasn't it, either. Because the place Harry had occupied in him before had changed. Had gone, almost completely. It was a new space, now, that Harry fit into. A better one.

And he wanted to learn that place. Learn all the new edges of Harry that would fit into it. But regardless of all there was to learn, he knew, deep down through his heart, they had found each other again, this way, for a reason. And that it was the right one. They were ready now.

With only the tiniest of smiles, a private one, just for himself, Louis rolled up onto his side and slid his other arm around Harry, pressing against Harry's bellybutton to push them together from top to toe. He recognized enough of this place to feel at home. A new kind of whole. And that was a start.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally cannot thank A, Hanna, and Lex near enough for all their love and support and helping in picking and talking this through. And yeah, I did just kind of make a Music Man reference there. Deal with it ;)
> 
> This is my first H/L and I'm just in love and terrified and a thousand things, really, or maybe a million, and anyway... I hope it worked for you. It meant a lot to me. To tell a story like this, set in a world I know well, tied to a show I adore.
> 
> Stephen Trask's "Origin of Love" from Hedwig and the Angry Inch inspired this story, top to bottom, and you can find a lovely version of it -- sung by Andrew Rannells -- [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrr9b9vyXoA). If you don't know the song, I really recommend listening to it, but even if you do... Andrew's version is lovely, and fully worth checking out.
> 
> Also worth checking out, if you're curious, or just a masochist like me, is the 'Then love me from the front' scene. Which you can see [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQXMER975zg).
> 
> Okay. Let's just be honest. I think you should see all of Hedwig and if you can't come see John Cameron Mitchell play him on Broadway right this minute, then watch the movie. It's excellent and moving and... ugh. It's one of the best musicals ever written. And I do not say that lightly.
> 
> Anyway, if you have any questions about Hedwig or the story or anything, I'm happy to answer them. Otherwise thanks for letting me share this story with you. It really does mean a lot.
> 
> xxloose


End file.
